


Just Gay for You, Bro

by WritingThroughFandoms



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: College, Coping, Craig pines, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lust, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post Game, Questioning Sexuality, Rekindled Romance, Romance, bisexual Craig, false love, gay dadsona, post college, pre game, struggling sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingThroughFandoms/pseuds/WritingThroughFandoms
Summary: Craig and Abel have been friends since the random generator popped out their names for them to be roommates in college. Abel's openly gay and comfortable, while Craig is straight and simple. Through their friendship, Craig is reassured that masculinity isn't everything, and Abel finds out that his Asian roommate really likes to kiss him for some reason.This is the key romance moments in their lives, and how they almost missed out on each other due to questioning sexuality and typical circumstances.





	1. You Look Kissable, Bro

                The first time Craig and Abel kiss had sort of been an accident. Sort of, because Abel—the gay one out of the two—hadn’t expected it whatsoever, and Craig—the supposed straight one of the two—hadn’t meant to act upon the thought; however, he had thought about it. It happened at four in the morning on a Sunday. They had actually finished all of their work for Monday by Saturday night, and thankfully got some much needed rest lumped together on their abused couch. Craig was the one who usually got up around four am, something about wanting to start having the sleep schedule of the job he was going to get. Abel called him crazy and rolled over in his bed most times, dismissing Craig’s teases by shoving his head under his pillow. That particular Sunday, Craig thought it would be nice to take a stroll around campus before Abel and he head to their favorite café for breakfast. They were still getting adjusted to things, with both of them only being freshmen for half of the semester. Often times they had to walk each other to class to make sure the other didn’t get lost, and text constant reminders of directions whenever they weren’t able to. It was nice, the friendship they had going on, and Craig wouldn’t trade it for anything—even if his dreams started to get a little too friendly when it concerned the red-headed dorm mate. Pushing those dreams from the front of his mind, Craig had gotten up, accidentally shifting the man who took up the opposite side of the couch. There was a very high-pitched whine, one Craig found so damn endearing, before the curled up male stilled, the thin throw shifting to match Abel’s breathing as he drifted back to sleep. Craig stood there a few moments too long before he realized he was staring after his dorm mate like a girl with a bad crush. He never rushed to the shower quicker in his life than in that moment, cheeks flushed hot with shame and confusion. No other guy he found to be so . . . cute. What made Abel so damn different?

 

                Said red-head at one point had gotten up to get a snack. Craig was coming back into the living room to see Abel with both blankets around his slim frame, a large bowl of cereal resting on his lap, a spoon almost touching his lips. The Blackette almost laughed at Abel’s expression, which was squinting harshly at the brightly-lit television that was currently playing some classic cartoons—Abel’s favorite. As Craig approached, the other tilted his head up, spoon now hanging from his mouth. There was a moment of silence, indicating the cartoon was either being introduced, or showing off credits. The continuous white light from the tv highlighted Abel’s sleepy expression, and Craig had to bite his lip to prevent from squealing. His dorm mate’s normally slicked back hair was flopped around his face, each strand seeming to highlight a different feature upon his face, from the stormy gray eyes with long dark lashes, to the full lips that stretched into a smile more often times than not. The red-headed man tilted his head, eyebrow quirking in a silent question. God, that was adorable. Craig felt his heart swell at the gesture—he never felt this affectionate for his bro before. Without thinking, he smoothed his large hand over Abel’s bangs, pushing the locks from his forehead before bestowing a kiss on the patch of skin there, hearing a faint sound of surprise from the male below. “Going out for a bit, be back for breakfast,” he murmured as he pulled away, feeling his cheeks redden at Abel’s disbelieving expression. Craig turned on his heel, yanking open the door. Just before shutting it, he heard that wonderful laughter, followed by a playful “be careful, my dearest bro!”. His heart skipped a beat.

 

                He found himself doing that a lot more since then. They never really mentioned it, Abel giggling more than anything whenever Craig suddenly leaned over and pecked his forehead, or his cheek. The Blackette found himself becoming bold, finding any excuse to kiss the other on his face. Leaving, returning back, praising, thanking—they all soon became rouses, all to shower his dorm mate’s soft skin with his lips. Though they never actually **_kissed_** _kissed_ , Craig still found his stomach knotting whenever Abel reacted positively, even on rare occasions being so courageous as to give a simple, chaste smooch at the corner of his eye, or along the sharp beginning of his cheekbone. This was something they kept to themselves, never doing it where others could see. It was their thing—their own type of bro-code. A . . . bromance? Craig heard someone refer to their friendship as such, but he never sat down to actually google the meaning. Sure, they weren’t the epitome of a typical masculine duo. Abel was very in touch with his feminine side, though looking at him wouldn’t show it. He liked his movies, to cuddle, to gossip. Craig never met anyone like Abel, and found that with his male, he had experienced more about himself that he thought was available to a guy like him. Sure, sometimes things would bruise his manlihood, but he found it to be more worth it whenever Abel got so damn excited, his eyes widening along with his smile, jumping up and down like a middle schooler.

 

                They got caught their sophomore year in college. Craig never forgot that girl’s face when she had slammed open their dorm door, announcing her loud arrival, and at the same time watching as Craig had picked Abel up, his lips coming to full-on contact with a laughing Abel’s temple. Once they noticed the loud intrusion, Craig had looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide with fear. Abel, however, didn’t seem bothered and simply pushed Craig’s chin away, still chuckling as he waved towards the confused female, stating, “Craig is trying to show me how Melissa was acting around the new gothic kid.” Immediately, the girl’s face changed into disgust.

               

                “Melissa hit on the poor goth kid? Oh gross! I have to see how he’d doing—poor guy must have really saw death on his doorstep.” The two began to chatter, while Craig quickly retreated to his room, fingertips holding his lips shut while his face flushed in embarrassment. He had just got caught kissing Abel! Well, not really kissing, but—still! It looked like they were a couple—it have to have! Craig sat on his bed and wrung his hands, listening to the laughter just outside of his room. Abel and that girl had been friends since the beginning of sophomore year, both of them being art majors and having a few of the same classes, she often joined in on their walks. Craig couldn’t remember her name to save his life, but worried that their behavior would come up into question, and the panicked man couldn’t find a solid answer even for himself. He just really liked kissing Abel—oh god, not kissing, but, well, kind of. He groaned weakly into his palms, feeling like hiding under a rock. His dreams have been escalating to the point of pathetic, the way his brain conjures up brief, fleeting images of a blissed-out Abel, obviously under his own body, the male out of breath, but smiling up at him as if he was the world. Other times, he saw filthier images, of those beautiful legs around his waist, small hips within his hands. Soft gasps, whimpering moans. Craig would never admit to how much he awoke with morning wood thanks to the dreams of his dorm mate. He was just glad said red-head didn’t seem to notice, or care, because he never pushed for any answers, never called him out to stop. Abel just rolled with the punches, and Craig couldn’t help but swoon over the man’s kind spirit.

 

                Later that night, they met lips for the first time. Abel had came into Craig’s room after his friend had left, smiling reassuringly and inviting him into the living room for pizza. Craig, though still stiff with anxiety, agreed. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, Abel giving his bro the space he needed as the filled their stomachs and cruised the television for something simple to watch. Craig appreciated the effort made, and soon found himself comfortable enough to unwind from his tightly curled position. Abel just smiled fondly, turning his attention back to the tv as he grabbed himself another slice of meat lover’s, mouth pink and shiny from the grease as he bit down. Craig shouldn’t have found that as attractive as he did. It didn’t take long for the Blackette to find himself stretched out along the couch, his head hesitantly using Abel’s closest thigh as a pillow. The red-headed male didn’t react negatively, simply patting Craig’s hair before going back to his meal, using one hand to hold a slice of pizza while the other was flicking through his cellphone, mindlessly answering messages from his artsy friend Craig saw every once in a while. Though they tended to run in different crowds, they were the best of friends. Abel even got to meet Craig’s parents over the freshmen breaks, and during the summer, Abel’s father invited Craig to go with them to one of the larger theme parks in the state, to which he immediately agreed upon. They both learned so much about each other—Abel’s mother left when the red head was only two, leaving the husband heartbroken, but not giving up on his son—even going so far as to take him to all of the lgbt parades and such once he learned of his son’s sexuality. Most approving and proud parent Craig had ever seen. Likewise, Abel learned about Craig’s giant family, earned a crush from his older _and_ younger sister. Although Craig never seemed to have as bad of problems at home as Abel, they still were able to cope and understand one another.

 

                “You’re thinking too loudly, Craig. It’s ruining my pizza vibes,” Abel chuckled around a bite, single eyebrow raised as he gazed down upon Craig, those dark clouds for eyes bearing into his soul. Craig flushed, giving an unsure grin up to him.

               

                “Sorry, bro. Just got a lot on my mind,” he shrugged, lifting the crust of his pizza to the other’s mouth, who happily chirped before taking the food into his mouth, leaning away to chew on the breading with vigor. Craig watched, delighted, though he thought about how his lips had touched that piece, and how Abel’s lips are now touching that piece . . . Oh god, he felt light-headed.

 

                “Erin didn’t ask, just so you know. Most of the people here wouldn’t believe it even if they did see it, bro.” It took a long few moments for Craig to understand what Abel meant, but when he did, his cheeks warmed again, eyes shooting to another part of the room, avoiding talking. Abel sighed, finished with his crust, and set down his cellphone, seeming ready to have that serious talk they’ve been avoiding for a year now. “Craig, no one’s going to respect you less, or think of you less than a man for occasionally kissing your gay friend’s cheek. If they do, then they can kindly fuck off. I’ll shove my fist so far in their chest that I’ll pull out their still-beating heart with no problem.” Craig believed him. Abel took self-defense classes and could easily get Craig on his ass, despite the very twinkish body the male was blessed with. The Blackette chuckled, glancing up at his friend with relief.

 

                “I am sorry I’m being such an asshole about it.”

 

                “You haven’t said a word about it whatsoever. I just happen to know you well enough when you’re not telling me something. You’re an open book to me, dude.” With that, Abel leaned back fully, allowing the foot-rest of the sofa to extend, putting him in a laid-back pose, making his lap a bit more comfy for his friend. Craig sighed heavily, turning his head so his cheek pressed against the thigh, eying the male with interest. Abel was so casual, so open about how he felt and called it like he saw it. He also did everything in his power to make sure Craig wasn’t even self-doubting, or uncomfortable. He was the ultimate bro, and Craig found himself with another overwhelming set of emotions. Every time it seemed like he couldn’t control himself, but he was certain what he wanted to do this time, had a plan. He’d either get a kiss, or laugh it off and continue watching one of the older episodes of a series Abel prefers. Using his strength, Craig pushed himself up, suddenly enough to earn his dorm mate’s attention, those gorgeous eyes resting upon his face, head tilting. As though approaching a shy animal, the Blackette crawled forward, sitting almost in Abel’s lap, their thighs rubbing together. His arms came up, resting on each side of Abel’s shoulders, the cushion giving in to their combined weight, sinking his hands down, further trapping the smaller male. Eyes widened, but the redhead didn’t move, his lips barely parting. Craig’s dark eyes peered into his dorm mate’s, seeing the caution there. Even now, while Craig had the upper hand in this situation, Abel was calculating his moves in hopes not to hurt the other. God, this guy was a ride-or-die-bro for life. “What’s wrong?”

 

                “Bro, no homo, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” Abel laughed.

 

                “Why don’t you? You never asked before.”

 

                “No, bro, like—“ Craig stuttered, blowing out a sigh before turning his head away. “I mean like, actually kiss you. Can I?” Glancing almost shyly back, Craig found Abel’s expression to still be amused, like a cat that outsmarted a pup. He found that he liked the mischievous look on his dorm mate’s face.

 

                “Like I said, you’ve never asked before. I’m not stopping you. No homo,” Abel shrugged, squeaking in surprise when Craig literally dove for the kiss, their lips pressing together, teeth almost clacking thanks to the blackette’s eagerness. Giggling into the kiss, Abel purred his approval, making Craig’s cock twitch uncomfortably. Since when did he get so girly over this guy anyway?

 

                The kiss didn’t last long, Abel being the first to pull away, laughing breathlessly as Craig licked his own lips, storing the taste in the back of his mind for who-knows-what. “How was that?”

 

                “Not enough,” Craig murmured, coming back in once again, his redheaded friend allowing more, tilting his head at an angle to help their position. God Abel had smooth lips, why the hell were they so soft? Craig experimentally bit at the plush bottom lip, a questioning noise leaving his chest when Abel jerked away, eyes narrowing. “What? What’d I do?”

 

                “Craig, if you are planning on using your tongue, you have to buy me ice cream first.” Craig chuckled at the joke, stealing one last peck before dragging himself away entirely, hearing Abel’s amused laughter as he trekked his way towards his room. “Goodnight, bro. Don’t forget we have to meet up with Melissa tomorrow to help the newspaper club!” The blackette groaned his reluctance, but agreed anyway, in too good of a mood to argue. Melissa was the worst, she found all the gay men attractive and insisted they were just “hard mode” on her dating list. Craig couldn’t help but feel like she tended to make him jealous on purpose with how she got to freely cling to Abel, to kiss his face—never his lips, thank god, Craig already one-upped her there. Tomorrow was going to suck.


	2. Maybe We Should Stop

                Melissa was a cruel witch, indeed. The whole day seemed to include her, Craig couldn’t even go to the bathroom to get some time away from her to spend with Abel because “that’s not what guys do”. Instead, he waited outside with Melissa while she chatted about how adorable Abel was. He felt his mood sour, which Abel had picked up on the moment he stepped out of the rest room. Melissa, the ever oblivious, had immediately attached to Abel’s arm, squealing about whatever she was amused by, leaving Craig to sulk in the back as they made their way across campus, towards one of the many food courts they had located in the town. Melissa had practically begged Abel for a coffee break, to which the redheaded charmingly agreed. Craig was starting to think that Melissa might follow them to their dorm, which would really get under his skin more than she already was. Abel glanced back at his roommate, sharing a soft smile that had the blackette relax a tiny bit. Abel’s attention was something Craig had become accustomed to, and with his recent popularity gain thanks to his help in the newspaper club, he was beginning to see the other less and less. The time they did spend walking to class or hanging out in the dorms were becoming shorter times. Craig missed it, but knew he couldn’t have all of Abel’s time. With his mood mellowed out, Craig decided that he needed an iced bubble tea to get through the rest of this day.

 

                Abel was really sneaky when he wanted to be. Craig knew that already, but really was surprised to the extent in which he had followed through. While Melissa once again managed to capture Craig’s attention, god knows what she was asking about, Abel winked at him, excusing himself to grab their orders as they were yelled across the shop. The blackette blushed faintly, hearing Melissa ‘aaaah!’ in response. “Huh, sorry, what?”

 

                “You dooo like someone! Is it that cheerleader I saw you helping the other day?” What cheerleader? Oh, she must have meant Grace. She twisted her ankle trying to show off some moves to the blackette, which made him late to his planned dinner with Able. He had been so annoyed that day. “No? The anger on your face says no—okay, how about a girl from your home town?” Where was she getting these suggestions? Why did she want to even know? Wasn’t she so concerned on whether or not Abel thought her bra looked sexy not thirty minutes ago? Craig grunted in distaste, turning his head and coming face-to-face with his drink, which Abel held to him with a smirk, eyes alight with what Craig is learned to be trouble. He took the cup cautiously, keeping eye contact as he curiously sipped from the clear cup. Huh, it tasted like his drink . . .

 

                “OOOOhhhh my god, Craig! One of the baristas totally wrote you a message on your cup!” Melissa yanked the drink from Craig’s hand, turning the tea in order to show off the marker that he had missed while he was busy staring at Abel, who was now seating himself on the other side of Melissa, setting her drink down while he took generous gulps from his own, smirking around the straw. “ _Think of your lips on mine--that oughta bring a smile to your face_. With a kissing, winky emoji! Craig, oh my gooood!” The blackette’s eyes immediately shot to Abel’s, cheeks aflame when he caught the other winking once more, turning his face to Melissa as she nudged the redhead, showing him the cup as well. The two chatted about the ‘mysterious barista’ while Craig did as Abel’s message told, thinking of nothing more than their lips meeting, smooth against chapped, full against thin. It sounded like Heaven right now, and Craig couldn’t wait for them to get back to the dorms.

 

                The first time they made out was early in their junior year. The kisses had come far and few between, depending on the stress levels of Craig. Abel had started to initiate some of the kisses now, whenever he heard Craig growling in anger, or spacing out too long for his comfort. Some weekend mornings that’s all they did, passing chaste peck after another, neither of them keeping their mouths together for longer than a few seconds. Hands started to get adventurous, Craig’s now resting against Abel’s lower back, while the other lost his fingers within Craig’s longer hair, scratching the scalp to comfort his bro, more often than not earning a long, deep purr. They still got to hang out, a bit more than last year, but with Craig taking early morning classes, and all of Abel’s moving to mid-afternoon, their hangout times had to be altered. More frequent ones, yes, but less time, save for when they’re both back in the dorms for dinner and sleep. This is the times where most of their kissing occurred. Right now they were waiting on their pre-made frozen tacos to get warmed up in the oven, Abel sitting at the small island doing his homework, Craig washing the week’s dishes that were left in the sink. This was one of his thinking times. Lately, Abel had begun to talk about his guy, Alex, who was a new addition to his class due to a scheduling problem. It seemed as though Alex had taken a liking to Abel, with the man also being gay. They work together during class often times, and Craig felt the anxiety bubble in his chest that this guy was becoming too much involved for him to be comfortable. Every time Abel’s phone buzzed, he twitched, knowing it was Alex that was messaging him. Being the knowledgeable guy he is, the redhead had started turning his phone on silence, often times leaving the device to be checked right before bed. He knew of Craig’s need for attention, understood it. Craig hadn’t been the center of focus for anyone, ever. The few times he had met his family has proved it, so Abel was doing his best to make sure Craig felt wanted, felt loved. Abel did love him. However, he also knew about Craig’s denial about being anything but straight. He found Craig’s search history on accident, wanting to clean up their laptops of possible cookies and malware. He hadn’t brought up the googled questions, images, or video sites, but he knew that Craig was slowly figuring himself out, in his own time. It must have been confusing, he was sure he hadn’t been helping with their shared affection over the years, but that was Abel’s selfishness showing. He enjoyed each time their lips met, felt himself caring more and more for Craig. He knew almost anything about him—if there was ever a jeopardy show based on the strict knowledge of Craig, Abel was certain that he would win the game in the first round. Despite their unusual friendship, Craig still confided in Abel, just as he did with the other. Though, Abel knew that even though their bond was strong, the affection had to end at some point . . .

 

                “I hear your thinking, Abel, its ruining my washing vibes.” The red head barked out laughter as the blackette dried off his hands, strolling over to where Abel was looking over his homework, gray eyes raising to meet his own, showing conflict. Assuming it was the problem, Craig braced his arm on the back of the chair Abel sat on, leaning in so that his jawline rested against his dorm mate’s head, scanning the problem while the other blinked owlishly. “Ew, formulas. What does this have to do with art, anyway?” Abel laughed, bringing his pencil down and scribbling some numbers in, setting up something Craig had no idea about, until he ended with a very random number, stroking his pencil to indicate him moving a decimal. Once that was done, Abel rewrote his work, and answer, on the class paper, making sure to not streak the lead across the page.

               

                “Just had a momentary brain lapse, bro. Too much studying,” he commented, setting his work on the other end of the island, turning so he faced his roommate.

 

                “Just makes you suuuuper smart,” Craig replied, tilting his head as he approached Abel’s lips, smiling softly when his roommate tilted his head up to meet in the middle, eyes fluttering closed while he took in the sensations, the taste. Craig couldn’t lie—he found Abel to be super attractive when he actually moved into the kiss before it happened, or even when he snatched one from Craig while he wasn’t paying attention. It was soon becoming his favorite thing about Abel, besides the fact that the guy has just been the best person in his life so far. He expanded his mind by living with his best friend, learning more about the world beyond his straight lifestyle. He got to attend an lgbt parade with Abel over their summer vacation, sporting an “ALLY” shirt proudly while Abel dragged him around, explaining sexualities and relationship types all while they checked out some awesome rainbow merchandise. Craig had bought a braided necklace that had the ally colors put into a charm, which he wore proudly almost every day. Abel had plenty of items, but enjoyed educating Craig, which the blackette believed was brought on by their . . . whatever they were. The whole parade they got to mingle with the vivid, lively people, most of the crowd seeming to know and love Abel. By the time they left, Craig was sure that his roommate had never looked more gorgeous than when he was decked out in gay pride gear, a cute symbol painted on his cheek, waving a small flag, eyes sparkling with tears of joy as he celebrated his people, his community. Craig was in the moment, too much so, for he swept the other in a long romantic kiss, earning cheers from the passerbys. He was just lucky that he knew his type of school-people didn’t spend their time going to events like this.

 

                Abel hummed a soft note as he parted their kiss, but Craig captured him once more, crowding into his space, hands resting on the other’s thighs, thumbs stroking the shorts his roommate wore. The other sighed through his nose, a good sound, returning the gesture with as much care as Craig had. They stayed like that for several more moments, just feeling their lips, before a nearby series of beeps brought them apart. Their tacos were done.

 

                “Hey, Keg-stand-Craig! Toss me another drink, please?” Craig laughed, bringing his friend his preferred can of alcohol, casting a glance to the three others that laid empty on the table. After tacos, they thought it would be a fantastic idea to cuddle on the couch and watch a show badly attempt to recapture the drama of college life. Abel scooted over, giving Craig room to sandwich himself on the same section that had the footrest out, their shoulders rubbing, legs tangling. If it were any of his other friends, Craig would be so uncomfortable, so awkward. Yet, feeling Abel’s body heat felt natural, like this was where he was supposed to be. His roommate carefully tucked them both under the quilt his father had recently purchased for him, making sure they were both warm and comfy. Abel tucked his head against Craig’s shoulder, eyes focused on the screen as he nursed another alcoholic beverage, just on the borderline of tipsy. The blackette was in the same level, but just stopped drinking for the night. They had to be careful, hangovers were such a pain to deal with, and Craig’s heart just about broke every time he checked in on Abel the next day, seeing him whine pathetically from his cocoon of blankets. His attention flicked to the television when an especially dramatic set of tunes popped up. It looked like a girl was watching her crush flirt with another, her eyes filling up with tears as she sobbed behind her hiding spot, thinking of how she was so stupid, that it was all her fault for not being enough. Thinking it was cheesy, Craig decided to entertain himself with Abel, who had gone from watching the television to staring at the lip of his can, tongue peeking out to swipe the droplets that almost escaped his mouth. Craig felt his cock give a twitch of interest, and suddenly, he wanted to feel Abel’s tongue in his own mouth. His hand reached out, taking the can from Abel and setting it onto the surface of the table, while his redheaded roommate looked disappointed at the loss. “That was my last drink, Craig,” he whined, eying the can from over the blackette’s shoulder.

 

                “I’ve got something better,” he replied, seeing Abel immediately focus upon him, registering what he meant. Fumbling around, Craig found himself comfortable by setting his knees on each side of Abel’s waist, sitting down against the awaiting lap. The redhead’s arms immediately took refuge around Craig’s shoulders, tugging him close so they could get started. These were different, they lasted longer than a couple seconds—these were uncoordinated, almost needy. Craig liked these, felt how they set a flame in his lower stomach. Abel’s noises, god, those were addicting. Soft sighs, quiet gasps, deep hums, it was all signs to Craig that he was enjoying himself. This, plus the alcohol gave Craig the courage he needed. Like before, Craig started off with a simple nibble against the bottom lip, hearing Abel’s questioning noise vibrate against his mouth. The blackette grumbled back, hands gliding up and down the other’s sides as he tiled his head, tongue poking out to run along the seam of Abel’s lips, stroking there once or twice before another slick appendage met his own. The taste was nice, though alcohol added a sting. Still, Craig ventured further, bumping his face closer, allowing his tongue to enter Abel’s mouth, hearing the other squeak in response. The two appendages got acquainted, roaming against each other, twirling, taking their time to truly mix saliva. Craig ran the appendage against Abel’s top row a teeth, to which the redhead responded by tangling his tongue with Craig’s, mouth suckling. That felt amazing. No girl had never done that, nor had they ran their teeth against his tongue, like Abel was doing now. He felt dizzy, light headed from pleasure. Feeling his own chest tighten from lack of oxygen, Abel parted their mouths, gasping for a lung full of air, Craig following suit. They both took a moment to stare at one another, seeing the shine against their chins from their lost saliva, how their pupils had blown out enough to almost completely cover their irises. Abel’s cheeks were stained red, and Craig knew he wasn’t any better. Without much thought to it, Craig leaned in once more, hearing a broken keen leave Abel’s lips. His lungs protested, cried out for a longer break, but he loved this, needed it too much—

 

                Abel leaned back again, wheezing at the loss of air. Hazed, horny, and hungry for more, Craig simply took his mouth to Abel’s smooth neck, enjoying the sounds of the redhead’s breathless panting, feeling the chest under him lurch with each inhale. He did this—he caused this feeling in Abel. Leaving very loud, wet kisses, Craig made sure to coat the sides of Abel’s neck, hearing the quiet male squeak, sigh, and mewl with each bite, every suck. Moving a hand down onto Abel’s thigh to steady himself, Craig found Abel’s shorts to be incredibly taught, making him glance down as he formed another small hickey under his roommate’s jaw. Sure enough, he found Abel’s dick to be hard, straining against the materials he wore. A little realization followed that Craig was just as hard as Abel, if not more so. He froze, his breath stalling in his throat, lips hovering over a new patch of skin. There was a whine, one he registered as Abel’s, but the panic was rising too quickly for Craig to react. He was hard, turned on by his bro, his best friend—a _guy_. A guy he kisses, has been kissing for a few years now. Wasn’t he straight? He tried looking up gay porn, tried looking at provocative images of other men, and they didn’t do this. They never even made his dick twitch. How the hell was Abel the only guy that could make Craig feel this way? What did this mean? He wasn’t gay, he found too many girls attractive, slept with a few to back it up. What were those other terms Abel explained to him—oh god, he couldn’t remember. _Why couldn’t he remember?_

 

               “Bro--holy shit, Craig!” A soft slap to the side of his face made him focus again. His chest of heaving, hands trembling as they squeezed the life out of Abel’s thighs. Oh god, he must’ve been hurting his bro. His head shot up, eyes searching the red head’s face for any pain. The expression he found was one of panic, of deep concern. With a slow, steady swoop of his hands, Abel cupped Craig’s face, making the blackette further discover that he was . . . crying? Why was he crying? “Hey, hey,” Abel cooed, thumbs catching any tears that formed. “It’s okay, bro. I’m sorry, I scared you, didn’t I?” Craig shook his head, lips wordlessly mouthing the word ‘no’ over and over. Why couldn’t he speak? Why did his chest feel so tight, yet so hollow? “It’s okay, man. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you—tell me what you need, bro. I got you.” Hearing Abel’s shaky voice broke his heart, for he didn’t even know what was wrong with him. What was going on? A strained wheeze exited his chest, to which Abel tsked, eyes softening. “I’m going to hold you—that okay dude?” He wasn’t sure, why wasn’t he sure? He trusted Abel, so why was there a spike of alarm going off in his head? “Craig. Criag, you have to focus on me, bro. Common, come back to me.” Why was he breathing harder now? His hands pawed at Abel’s chest, eyes squeezing shut. He choked out a hiccup when Abel’s arms encircled his back, gently persuading his roommate to lay against his chest, tucking his chin over Craig’s head. He stroked the blackette’s back in long, slow passes of his fingertips, other hand coming to rub his friend’s scalp the same way. Poor guy, it seems like he’s never had a panic attack before. He knew he might have pushed it once Craig got too invested in the kiss. They never even spoke about the fact that normal guys don’t fucking kiss unless they’re interested—Abel was, sure, but he knew Craig couldn’t answer that question even if he wanted to. He was being so selfish, keeping this going when it should’ve ended awhile ago. Squeezing Craig closer to his body, Abel nuzzled the other’s hair, feeling his eyes moisten at the pain he felt in his chest. He really did love Craig, so why was he purposely causing this conflict?

 

             They both clung to each other like that for almost an hour, Abel drawing patterns into his friend’s back, while Craig zoned back into the world, the blackness around his vision lessening until he was just staring at Abel’s t-shirt sleeve. He smelt Abel’s calming musk, reminding him of the flower fields that surround Abel’s old home. He heard the other’s heartbeat, finding himself counting each thump in the back of his head. That is probably what brought him back from . . . Whatever just happened. He took a moment to enjoy the embrace, eyes flicking down to observe the lanky arms that looped around his ribs, forcing Craig’s own arms to be tucked between their chests. He didn’t mind this, it was okay to enjoy this. His head turned, pressing his forehead into Abel’s collarbone. Just breathe. “I’m sorry, bro . . . Don’t know what happened there.”

 

            “Panic attack—caused by anxiety and fear,” Abel replied swiftly, shrugging a shoulder. “It happens, no need to be sorry. I am the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have took things that far—“ Craig pulled himself away enough to stare into the red-head’s gray eyes, seeing the guilt there. God, weren’t they an odd pair. His hand came up, brushing the stray locks from his roommate’s ponytail, noticing how Abel unconsciously leaned into his palm, lashes fluttering.

               

            “Bro, don’t apologize either,” he chuckled, seeing Abel give an unconvincing smile in response. Slightly off put by the misplaced guilt, he pecked the other’s lips, earning a surprised hum. “I like this, bro. I just—“ He ran a hand over his face in frustration at his silly thoughts, feeling shame well in his chest. “I just don’t know why I like it, but I do. Kissing you is nice, bro. Maybe—maybe we can keep it simple for now?” He didn’t want it to completely stop, he had a feeling that due to his freak-out Abel might pull away completely, which caused a worse feeling to settle in his stomach. Peering curiously at him, Abel rose both eyebrows, lips forming a thin line.

 

            “I don’t want that to happen again, Craig.” He sounded like he was giving up, though.

 

            “It won’t,” he replied hastily. They stared to each other’s eyes, both trying to see into the other’s soul. Craig wanted to see Abel’s desire for this, while Abel wanted to see Craig’s disgust. They had to stop this . . . They really should.

 

            Their lips found one another’s once more, Abel’s hands clutching Craig’s shirt, his stomach churning. It was far too late to stop this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't hardly ever re read my work, I just let Spell and Grammar Check do their thing and immediately post, which is why this chapter got out so fast!
> 
> Be prepared for the next chapter, things get really heated up!


	3. Not Always Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig fucks up--badly. All is forgiven. Alex becomes a better friend.

          Even though they still shared pecks, Abel hardly ever let them get past that. Occasionally, out of desperation, Craig would corner him against a solid piece of furniture, or a wall, and lap at his lips, wordlessly asking. It was maybe one or twice where the redhead’s resolve would crack, and they shyly and slowly advanced. Before it got too heated, though, Abel would pull away, offering a smile and making an escape, or slowing them down to chaste smooches. Craig found himself sexually frustrated, it had been a good month and a half since his panic attack, and he really wanted to try a bit more with Abel, to see if his bro was really someone he could be with.

 

          But his roommate wouldn’t take the dive with him, and he knew it was just because he didn’t want to scare him. It was sweet, but also annoying. All of that, plus the occasional late night pondering of his sexuality label, Craig felt like a pent up animal—which usually led to stupid decisions.

 

          The first time Abel cried over Craig was almost two months after his anxiety attack.

 

          Craig had come into the dorm a lot later than usual, looking worn out but happy. Abel had been at the island, answering a few text messages from his friend Alex, an ice cream sandwich hanging from his fingers. A pair of lips connected to his cheek, making him turn towards his roommate’s face, eyebrows near his hairline. “For a second I thought I’d have to send out a search party, bro. You didn’t answer any of my—“ Abel got silent as his eyes trailed down Craig’s throat, a dark spot catching his gaze. It was there, almost hidden by the collar of his shirt. A hickey. Instead of feeling a wave of relief that Craig found himself someone else to kiss, his gut dropped, heart clenching painfully tight. Craig didn’t seem to notice.

               

          “Ah, sorry bro. Smashley had invited me to her place for Mario Kart.” Ow. Abel kept his expression neutral, letting out a flat ‘oh’ as a response. His fingers flew across his keyboard, body shuffling out of his chair. He threw away his ice cream sandwich, causing Craig to notice the sudden mood change. “Hey bro? Where are you going, it’s after midnight on a week day,” he asked, confused and a bit bothered. Abel’s attention was on his cellphone, nodding as he read over a message. Craig waited while Abel pocketed his phone, heading towards the door.

               

         “Alex invited me over for a drink, wanted to talk about homework or something.”

 

         “Oh? Why not just come over here?” Craig’s voice had a defensive tone to it. Alex was some guy, not important enough to see past bed time, right? Wrong. Abel’s hand was on the door knob, head turned to look over his shoulder at his roommate.

 

          “I’ll be back in a few hours, dude. Got my key, I won’t wake you up.” Dismissal. Something was bothering Abel, and Craig had the guilt in the back of his mind. Without thinking of the consequences, Craig crossed the room in a few strides, using a firm hand to tug Abel by his chin, softly laying a kiss to his lips. Instead of a kiss back, Abel pulled back, something flashing in his eyes that had the blackette more uneasy than before.

               

          “Be careful, bro. I guess I’ll see you in the morning?” Craig asked his question with hope, to which his friend just smiled, nodding as he excited the dorm, letting the door close behind him with a soft ‘click’. Craig felt a shudder wrack his body, eyes glancing back where Abel had been sitting. He had been waiting up for him, worried. What was Craig doing? Working out his troubled mind on a girl who had barely mattered. His gut felt wrong, he felt guilty. He was selfishly expecting Abel to give him all of his time, attention, and affection. Yet what did he do? Fuck some girl who offered to ease his tension. They weren’t technically dating—hell, they didn’t even know what they were doing, but Craig still felt so wrong. He needed a shower, needed to sleep so he could wake up to Abel grinning at him, giving a good morning kiss—

 

          Oh. **_Shit_**.

 

 

          Craig’s eyes widened as he put the pieces together. He made his way to the bathroom, hissing when he saw the mark Smashley had left in plain sight. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide the fact he slept with her, but she wasn’t allowed to mark him like that. Abel must’ve seen it, made the connections. He had hurt Abel’s feelings—the sweet guy who stole a fish for him a few months back to replace his dead one. Why the fuck did he even sleep with Smashley, anyways? He snarled at his reflection, heaving his shirt off his body. Thankfully, that was the only hickey upon his body, but he still felt disgusting. Now Abel was with Alex, no doubt falling pray to that prick’s charms. Craig really had no room the judge, since he hadn’t met the man in question, but couldn’t help but feel jealousy anyways. His phone buzzed twice, indicating he had received two messages, but he just set his cellphone on the counter, going towards the shower door with a mission to scrub himself clean. He just hoped he could get rid of the dread he felt when he gathered why Abel had pulled away from their kiss to suddenly.

 

          To say the red head was upset was an understatement. Alex got a single text message, one that didn’t have to do with their previous conversation. ‘Be there in five’. Something must have really got him going for him to come all the way to his dorm, which was a few buildings away. His roommate was out for the night, leaving Alex to handle the situation without interruption. Abel had become a good friend of his, hanging out sometimes between classes whenever the athletic friend of his wasn’t around. Craig, he recalls. Obviously his friend had a soft spot for the guy, which was a shame. Alex might have a tiny crush on the beautiful redhead, seeing his brains as his charm. Their talks were always thought-provoking, delving into the deeper aspects of art. The passionate way Abel spoke was like poetry, soothing and emotion-inducing. The brunette heaved himself up, attempting to clean up around the place while he awaited the knocking of his friend. His mind pondered what he had to prepare for—he had seen Abel bothered, but never full-blown pissed off. Didn’t he usually have Craig to rant to? Alex felt touched that he was the one chosen; however, it didn’t quite fit.

 

         When Alex finally heard the tell-tale thumps of knuckles hitting his door, he stood tall, casually tugging the door open. A soft, alarmed gasp left his lips as he stared. Abel wasn’t pissed . . . He was crying. Those gray orbs he thought about were shining from the moisture, full tears running down his clammy cheeks. Without a word, Abel stepped into the apartment, closing the door with his foot while his arms casted out, taking Alex’s waist into an embrace, face planting into his chest. Off-guard, Alex stood still, his hands hovering over Abel’s shaking shoulders, his sobs almost silent. Not exactly sure what to do, the brunette patted the red-head’s locks, other hand resting against the space between his shoulder blades. “Hey, hey,” he whispered quietly, “you’re good here, Abel. Common, let’s get you something to drink and some tissues.” Pulling away, Abel nodded, his eyes starting to tint red with agitation to the tears. His nose was also taking some color, and Alex had to remind himself to not comment on how cute he looked—that would not be appropriate right now. With an arm slung around his shoulders, Alex shuffled his friend towards the small kitchenette, making sure to keep the other tucked under his arm to keep him comfortable. Abel had one hand fisted into Alex’s shirt, the other scrubbing his palm against his own lips, completely ignoring his eyes. Something was definitely wrong.

 

          Abel felt silly, really. He bothered Alex without thinking, and now he was sobbing against his friend, who had almost no experience with Abel’s negative emotions. They sat together on the couch, the brunette lending his shoulder for support, occasionally handing a fresh tissue to the red head while he got himself together. It just hurt, really, really badly. He supposed three years of indulging in his emotions with an unsure participant would end up tearing his heart out, but _goddamnit_ it felt so bad. He couldn’t stop his tears even if he wanted to, for every time he was close, his mind brought forth the sight of Craig’s neck, a fresh bucket of sobs not too far off. Alex was being a patient, good friend; patting his back, telling him to take his time—they didn’t have to talk about it. Abel wasn’t sure if he could talk about it anyways. How would one even begin to explain? So instead, Abel curled his knees to his chest, wailing into his thighs with vigor.

 

          Alex wanted to kick someone’s ass. He wasn’t even sure who, but for someone to make his friend this distraught, they had to be a cruel, cruel son of a bitch. The red head was aching and Alex wasn’t sure what to do. He tried approaching the subject lightly, once, but it only led to an even more distressed Abel. Right now he was pulling his felt blanket over the other, tucking it securely over his shoulders. The weight seemed like it might help. The brunette also decided to turn on the television as well, keeping the volume low and turning it to one of the late-night adult cartoon channels, knowing it was one that the red head enjoyed often. His hand returned to Abel’s back, rubbing soothing circles. He hadn’t left the cocoon of his knees yet, but Alex hoped the casual atmosphere he was trying to provide was enough. “Hey, buddy, want some water?” A soft nod, accompanied by a full body shudder. Grabbing the water bottle he had set on the table, the brunette handed it to the pale, outstretched hand. Finally, gray eyes peeked over kneecaps, showing how bloodshot they had gotten. Alex flinched, his finger coming up to comb the other’s hair away from his eyes. He looked so pathetic, so helpless and small. “Just drink in small sips, Abel. Have you had dinner?” Another nod, mouth nursing the bottle just as he had instructed. “That’s good. Anything else I can do?” A shake of the head, a shuddering sigh. “Well, you’re more than welcome to hang out here for as long as you want. We don’t gotta talk about it, but I do want to you to know that I am willing to listen and swear secrecy.” Abel cracked a smile at him, such a hopeful gesture compared to the tear-stained cheeks and red-tinted nose, Alex continued to pet the top of Abel’s head, turning his attention back to the television.

 

                Craig didn’t really sleep. His mind was too worried about Abel. He tossed in his small bed, finding every position to upset his stomach. His bro was hurting, and he couldn’t comfort him this time. God he felt like such a dick. He wanted to convince himself otherwise, wanted to believe that Abel hadn’t been upset, that he was really just having a few drinks with a classmate, chatting about homework or a test. His guilt honed in and smashed that, leaving him scrolling through his phone at two in the morning. Those two text messages were from Smashley—Craig had found himself deleting them without even opening one. The girl had been one of the friends he made during his athletic courses, one who obviously had a reputation giving by her nickname. He never noticed her attraction to him until she began offering one-on-one activities. Craig frowned deeply at his screen saver, which of course was a photo from the time they had jumped a concrete wall to escape the cops from a party, only to run into thirty or so officers. They managed to talk their way out of it, claiming they were just hanging out at a nearby park. Craig never forgot how he had to bluff, to convince the men and women that he wanted to join the academy. He smiled, running his thumb over the screen. It was one Abel took, a selfie of them both, the redhead laughing at the camera, gray eyes squinting with mischief. Craig was turned to him in the background, a nervous grin on his face as a set of off-screen hands were placing an officer’s hat upon his head, someone complying with his pathetic request to try on the article of clothing. He found the picture to be one of his many favorites, just because Abel had taken it. A lot of his photos were that way, seeing as Abel often snatched his cell to fill his data with various photos of him, sometimes with Craig, other times by himself. God, he missed him already.

 

                It wasn’t until four am when Craig finally heard the door open, soft steps shuffling into the living room and closing the door behind them. The blackette stayed with his back to his ajar door, listening intently to his roommate. Abel’s keys jingled quietly, being set against the island. Shoes were kicked off, landing in a set of thumps against the carpet. A long, barely concealed yawn escaped the redhead, steps coming into the hallway. Craig fought with himself, wanting to spring out of the bed and confront his bro, ask for his time to talk things out. He found himself a coward, his heart pounding as he heard his door push open, soft knocking of knuckles to the door frame grabbing his attention. He didn’t shut his phone, so the glow gave away his lack of sleeping. “Craig? You okay, man?”

 

                Even though he sounded drained, Abel was checking up on him. The blackette turned his head away from the light, dark eyes blinking at the shadowed figure of his best friend. “Yeah man, couldn’t sleep. You alright?” The question was met with a few moments of silence, Abel shifting his weight against the door frame. His thin arms crossed over his stomach in a defensive stature.

 

                “Yeah.” He answered, though he didn’t sound sure. Craig sat up in his bed, staring at the other with a smile, knowing the other couldn’t see all that well due to the dim lighting. “Can I . . .” The red head’s voice was meek, like he was avoiding whatever he wanted to ask. Craig was patient, patting the space next to him, hearing a sharp inhale. That seemed to be a step in the right direction, for his roommate crossed the small distance from the door to his bed, settling on the edge so they both had their space. Craig didn’t reach for his face like he wanted, didn’t scan his neck for love bites, hell, his eyes never even left Abel’s, seeing the puffiness to them. Abel did the same to Craig, not bothering to acknowledge the bruise he knew was there, the worry lines that no doubt formed with a pair of baggy eyes. They were a mess. He wanted to hold Craig, to feel the other man’s arms wrapped around him securely. Despite the fact he had his time with Smashley, Craig still had come back, didn’t spend the night at the girl’s room. It had obviously been something insignificant, something Craig had done out of the moment. Abel forgave him, lectured himself. They never formed anything, Craig wasn’t his, just as he wasn’t Craig’s—well, not with the labeling aspect. The red head’s heart always held a special spot for his best friend, something that wouldn’t be replaced. His first love.

 

                “Wanna sleep in here?” Craig asked without thinking, his brain immediately screaming at the impulsiveness he displayed. Abel chuckled breathlessly, hearing Craig’s strained groan, no doubt chastising himself. The redhead considered this for a moment, knowing that if he went to his room, neither of them would get any sleep. Craig had already showed that he didn’t rest at all while Abel was out, and the he knew that he wouldn’t be much better. So, he scooted closer to his dorm mate, legs sliding under the thin blanket. The blackette brightened, instantly moving to give the other room, shoving his cellphone onto its charger, cutting it off as his friend got adjusted. Even though the room was completely plunged into darkness, Craig imagined the sight of his friend in his bed, arms tucked to his chest, large gray eyes staring up at him. One of the things the blackette had no doubt dreamt about.

 

                They both settled into the mattress, facing one-another, Craig’s legs taking their usual positon to tangle with Abel’s. The red head giggled, shifting closer so they didn’t accidently kick each other out of the bed, his arms lifting to slip around Craig’s shoulders, hearing a heavy sigh of relief as the blackette dove into his chest, latching himself firmly with hands cupping Abel’s waist. They both settled, relishing in the body heat, the comfort of one another’s puffs of breath. Craig inhaled Abel’s familiar scent, not catching any hint of Alex besides an unfamiliar, brief scent of detergent, though the blackette wrote it off as soon as it registered, not wanting to think about it. Abel enjoyed the feeling of Craig’s hair tucked under his chin, the locks freshly washed in some sort of Irish spring product. It calmed the red head completely, body slacking against Craig’s. They both felt a lot better with just this, pushing the negative behind them. Craig didn’t know what he did to have the honor of calling Abel his friend, but he did not deserve it.

 

                The next few days had been slow, both Craig and Abel getting adjusted back into how things use to be. They only pecked each other’s cheeks or temple, Craig purposely avoiding the other’s lips to ease into things again, to ask forgiveness for accidently hurting the other. Abel let it happen despite already moving on from his cry-fest, wanting to let Craig have this. Smashley started showing up on their walks to class now, as had Alex. While both males found it bothersome, they didn’t have the heart to push the others away. At the end of the day, the boys refused any visits, taking this time to hang out with each other, just playing video games or collaborating on their homework.  Their hands always found a reason to touch another, whether it was cupping a shoulder, moving a strand of hair, or just running a fingertip along a hand. They were fragile, dancing around something they both didn’t know how to approach. It usually looked so simple and easy on tv, but here wasn’t a script, nor a set.

 

                They kissed again two weeks later, Abel being the one who did it. Craig felt it was official, that he had finally come back around, that the blackette was forgiven. He was still friends with Smashley, but never let himself be lured into her arms again. Abel didn’t go over Alex’s dorm during the night, either, but still hung out with him after classes to finish up projects. They both ignored how Smashley and Alex looked at their friends, seeing the longing there. Smashley wanted something with Craig, just as Alex with Abel. It would have been smart to make that adjustment, to push Craig towards the female, and Abel towards the brunette, to give them some space. However, they both were selfish, were so into one another that they clung to the hope that one day things would be brought back into the open, that the other would have enough courage to finally ask, to slap a label on their relationship. Craig was still uneasy about how his family might take his newfound sexuality, even though he was still confused on his exact title, he just knew he was insanely attracted to his gay best friend, and only his best friend. No other guy did it for him like Abel. He just wish he had to courage to show him.

 

                It all went downhill after college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS FIC WILL HAVE A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISEEEEEE.  
> Next chapter will briefly touch on the rest of their time together before the separation, mostly dealing with solid findings and such as that, before going into how each male felt during the course of their parting. The next chapter will be long, since I wanna go ahead and get out all the angst, so be prepared for it!

**Author's Note:**

> Another Dream Daddy fic?? COMMON AARON 
> 
> Sorry not sorry! Craig has to be my second favorite daddy. Such a precious goody-too-shoes with so much heart, who WOULDN'T LOVE HIM???  
> This fic should only be three to four chapters, since I'm including their college years, separated, reunited, and possible post-game moments. It's going to be full of cute with a slight bit of angst, covering the struggling thoughts of Craig as he comes to terms he's not the man he thought he was.  
> Well, when it comes to Abel, that is.


End file.
